“Nothing like. I run a bookshop. And I’m not personally interested, as such.” He’d wondered how to phrase this, and concluded that he was no Kim to manage an elaborate lie. “The thing is, I’ve done some work with Kim Secretan in the past. Lord Arthur Secretan, I mean, Lord Chingford’s brother. He wants to find out what happened that night.”

“The word in the Club is that Chingford went off his chump.”

“Maybe he did. All the same, it’s odd that one person could hate a man enough to kill him, while all we’ve heard from everyone else is that he was a fine fellow, no trouble to anyone. I wondered if you could shed any light.”

“I see. Look, I have to say: you do know Secretan’s a Bolshevist? And one of the white feather crowd?”

“He’s not a coward, or a traitor,” Will said, keeping it measured. “He thought the war was wrong so he refused to fight, and if I had it all to do again, so would I. I’d stay home, and tell everyone else to do the same, and when they came for me I’d tell them where to stick their war, because the King and the Kaiser should have kept their family row to Christmas like everyone else!”

That hadn’t come out particularly measured by the end, but Yoxall looked delighted. “Ha!” he said, smacking the table. “Uncle Jimmy told me you got through on sheer bloody-mindedness. Said to me, ‘Come back and tell me he’s the most awkward bugger you ever met’, and I was just thinking you were a pleasant sort of chap and how disappointed he’d be.”

“God, you’re like him,” Will said involuntarily.

“Thank you.” Yoxall flashed him a brilliant grin. “What exactly is it that Secretan’s trying to achieve?”

“The truth,” Will said, wondering if that was true itself.

Yoxall sipped his pint thoughtfully. “There’s not many people with a good word for Arthur Secretan, but Uncle Jimmy speaks very highly of you. And I heard about that shocking business with Lord Waring and that rotter Cheveley, the younger one. Was that you with Secretan then?”

“Yes.”

Yoxall gave him an unexpectedly shrewd look. “Tell you what. I’ll assume you’ve got a good reason to ask your questions, and I’ll be upset if you let me down.” Will gave him a nod; Yoxall leaned back. “And I told the police, so I suppose I may as well tell you. De mortuis nil nisi bonum is all very well, but the man was a cad.”

“Right,” Will said, since it was usually best to ride out the Latin and wait for things to make sense again.